Insanity is Beautiful
by Kashim Kururugi
Summary: AU: He was just a normal student, trying to make it through college, got a good job and make his father proud of him. Just like any other student, but what happens when the pressure builds up? What do you do when you can no longer tell the difference between reality and the things inside of your head? How do you fight something that isn't really there? How do you fight insanity?


Disclaimer: I do not own this, but I am borrowing the characters to play with them and bend then to my will for awhile. Aha... haha... hehehehe... MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAA! *lightning strikes in the background ominously* (clears throat) Ahem. I am making no profit off these writings, the characters belong to Ubisoft Montreal.

A/N I have... nothing to say... (crickets chirp) huh, well... uhhh... please do enjoy the story. It's sort of based off a true story.

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It was a rainy and blustery October night and a cold breeze chilled the lone figure walking back to his dorm room. He had been out late tonight, which was quite unusual for him. He was intelligent, always getting good grades and never missing class or falling asleep. He had never had personal health issues, family issues at the very least, but never anything drastic.

His father had sent him here to the Oxford university to get the best education he could. He had always dreamed about going here and graduating with honors, but things had changed and he for the life of him could not figure out the sudden lack of interest in… well… anything. He had always had such high aspirations. He could feel the gradual buildup of things inside and knew they were about to boil over soon. He hoped after things built up and finally exploded he would go back to his normal old self.

He was proud to be following in his father's footsteps. He had been born and raised in a catholic home and there was a point in time when he was completely happy and couldn't have wanted anything else in life, but yet he felt as if there was something dark looming around the corner.

Regardless he had been forcing it all down and bottling it up. He honestly could not afford to break down at this point in time. He had too much work to do. He was afraid of what might happen if he did break down right now. He sighed deeply as he opened the door and stepped in from out of the cold and brushed his hood back and started down the hallway.

He sighed and muttered to himself, "Dominus Illuminatio Mea." Oxford's matto which in English translated to The Lord is my Light. Lately he had been questioning it. He felt… alone… and he had to wonder where God was right now. A part of him was hurt and lonely, while another part told him he didn't have a right to question God, because God had a plan for him somewhere, somehow.

He yawned and rubbed his eyes as he walked down the long hallway. Lighting flashed and thunder rumbled and he let out another yawn. That was when he noticed it, a sound; Quiet and coming from behind him. Whispering? His feet stopped and made a quiet squeak on the floor, before he spun on his heel to look behind him and saw nothing.

Caulking it off as nothing after looking for a few more moments, he turned back around on his heel again and continued walking. He just wanted to go to his room and sleep. That was when he heard it again. The voices… voices? More than one? They were speaking, but it didn't sound like they were speaking to each other. It sounded as if they were speaking to him. He abruptly turned again. Still nothing.

"Tch." He clicked his tongue and looked around, walking forward slowly to see if he could find where the voices were coming from. Nothing. They still sounded far away. He was getting a bit too paranoid. It was probably some friends in their rooms staying up late and sneaking in. Maybe some lovers in the middle of the night or some thing or another.

This next time he turned to head to his room, the next thing he heard was something that froze him and sent shivers down his spine.

"Clay…" The voices said his name. they were whispering his name among whatever things they were saying. He turned again.

"Alright. That's enough! Who is playing games with me?!" He was done. This was absolute bull. He should not have to deal with immature brats that pulled stupid pranks. He didn't receive a reply. "If you keep it up I'm going to speak with the Headmaster! We'll see how cocky you are then."

"Clay…?" A voice from behind called, and he took his attention away from the whispering to see his old friend standing there. "What's going on?"

"Ah, Lucy… nothing. Just… some guys messing around I guess." He replied and she raised an eyebrow, looking behind him.

"I don't hear anything." Lucy told him and he glanced over his shoulder back towards the way he had been facing moments ago. Where the voices came from.

"You don't?" He stopped to listen, before smiling sheepishly. "I guess they took my warnings seriously then."

"I guess so. Why are you up so late?"

"I don't know. I could ask you the same."

"Touché…" She said, eyebrow still raised. "I was on the phone with my mother. Time differences… you know?"

"Oh. Right. Why didn't I think about that?" He rubbed the back of his head nervously.

"Are you feeling alright, Clay?" Lucy asked him finally and he furrowed his brow at her questioning and the concerned look on her face.

"Yes. Why wouldn't it be?"

"I don't-just… you've been a little off." She answered and he shrugged.

"I guess so. I just need a little more rest is all. I haven't been sleeping." He replied. "Anyway… I better get going you know. I think I hear my bed calling."

She laughed quietly. "Well… make sure you get some rest then. You look really worn out."

He nodded and they headed their separate ways. He rubbed his head at the irritating headache he was getting as he opened the door into his pitch black room. He paused for only a second.

"Come on, Clay. You're a big boy. Nothing to be scared of in the dark." He told himself, before entering into the bedroom, closing the door and walking into the pitch black with a hurried pace and turning on the light. He sighed in relief at the light.

He sat down on the edge of his bed and pulled his shoes off, tossing them across the room to land near the door somewhere, before he glanced over at the storm that was now raging. He hoped the power didn't suddenly go out, because… he may just scream and run if it did. He was already feeling extremely paranoid something else was watching him.

He sighed and buried his face in his hands. Something was wrong with him. His head didn't feel right at all. He felt like it was a computer and one of the cords had been unplugged. He sighed once more, before leaning back on the bed and staring at the ceiling.

What the hell was wrong with him?

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TBC...

Let me know what you think and if I should continue this story.


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